Mim on his Handlebars

I told you that I would be back soon. I think I am hitting that creative time of year. That ring, ding, ding, a-ling time of year? Yes, I just said that. It is probably just that it feels a bit cooler (finally) down here. To be honest, it does not compare to riding a bike in the fall everyday to work in New England. Here, I go the public transit route which is more people watching which is, relatively, the same to and from work. Whereas, the bike ride during the day with the trees and the cold fall air bit at you in a loving way vs the nearly moonlit rides home that were never harrowing but comforting. I would like to be back. But I do like Miami and this cold front is moving in at just the right time.

I cannot tell if I will regret this cup of coffee or not, it being eleven and all. I was talking to my old roommate/band-mate and we are working on collaboration again. This kid is an amazing musician. I like to think that I serve as a pretty good foil to him. I sent him the files to that last song I did and he is toying around with it. So, we will have that up soon too. Productivity, that is the word. Anyway. This one is a continuation of Proof Rock. The uplifting continuation--it picks up right where the other left off and is hugely similar in sound.

Rolling Proof

Even with my eyes closed I'll feel the wind on my face. I can take off these clothes when I get to my place, then, maybe I"ll call. This whole way home I've thought about turning around. Why should I postpone what's running aground? Better left alone doesn't work after all. The rain coming down makes me look okay, but i'd look better with the right part to play; so, with my wet clothes thrown on the floor, come over now--let that boat run ashore. I'm getting tired and I need you here. My eyes are open now, the path is so clear. The wind hugged me but it wasn't you dear. It's sincere: I hope you know that's true. I want to fall asleep while holding on to you and never have to leave. It's the only thing that I want to believe. Let me believe. Oh, please believe. And Don't leave me.

I will see you soon.

love

tm

Do I Dare Disturb The Universe?

It is Halloween, a Monday, and I have the day off. I understand the aversion to one's typical beginning of the week, but I, personally, am not used to the idea of starting off the week with a pause in place of a step. I feel like I should take advantage of the fortuitous placement of Halloween and this Monday devoid of work. I have been entertaining the idea of going as Clark Kent. My hair likes to curl naturally in that way in the front. And, I have found that I can bumble around and be clumsy easily enough. Delightfully meta fiction: I would be dressing up as a character's form of dress up. Cool.

So, Thomas Stearns Eliot and I were getting reacquainted a bit this morning and I decided to do a sketch inspired by his work. When I say inspired, I mean that a few of the images draw heavily (nice way of saying they are basically those images) from his work. I may have too much free time. There is that Updike novel I just started. I could read that. Or, maybe, those Bakhtin essays.
Proof Rock

Words, words, words:
With the buildings drawn in haze and the streetlamps shake and are dripping wet, the collar of my shirt rolls up around my neck comfortingly. It's a different kind of warmth: one I've known before. The moisture allows my hair to keep off my face and I feel more attractive. It lies grounded in place instead of every which way. But it doesn't pull its weight across this divide in my mind. I have only this warmth as company. It assures me so far as I know my blood flows with certainty. The moist wind licks at my face and arms, shown bare from rolled up sleeves. And, I'm only able to squint at where I'm going. Where am I going?

More coming soon. I promise.
Love,
tm

All Cowardice Comes from Not Loving

Or not loving well, which is the same thing.

I have been at the park the last four days in a row. For an hour or so with the ball looking for pick-up games. I just work on my ball control if I cannot find any games going on. I love the idea of getting reacquainted with the game. I feel like if I can have, at the very least, relatively decent control on the ball that it will trickle down into other things. I guess I am just trying to elevate my patience and determination. Ooohh, positivity?? That is weird. Oh, and the "cold" weather is actually quite nice (I say cold because people here think 68 degrees is cold).

Anyway, I have been sitting on this cover of a song for a while; so, since I am not getting any closer to finishing any of my own stuff this month, I recorded this. I think it is a tribute to my mixing skills and how far they have come. (Yeah, right. That is a joke if I have ever heard one. They are still pretty terrible). Anyway, if you have not heard the original, you should (It is by Saves The Day). This band makes me think of high school. Somehow, though, I turned it into a country-esque song. So... yeah.

Take Our Cars Now

So I guess you won't have trouble remembering me someday.

Maybe you'll never remember me.

There's my bit of color for the day, flecked with a bit of pessimism.

Love,

tm

Frankie Say Relax

My creative stamina is a sprinter. You might be able to use track and field analogies to describe the many facets of my personality, but what is the point in going there? That race has been over. Speaking of running, I need a partner for that. What I really need is a road bike. Want and need happen to cross the streams here, I believe. It feels a bit more cluttered with stress, like it mirrored itself.

I have tomorrow off and I am going to relax: watch a couple games, read some, and try to finish some more songs. As for tonight, I think I will go over to the park and kick the ball around a bit before the sun goes down: stretch my legs. Later on, we will see. Anyway, the rambling bit is over--down to business. Simple lyrics with a, less than creative, play on words. Yay.

Tapes on Five

Anyway, I will talk to you all at a later date.
Love you.
tm

I want to be living here within the next five years. When I say want, I mean need.